SILVANIA 

and  Other  Poems 

GEORGE   DU   BOIS 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


/ 


SILVANIA 


SILVAN  I A 

AND  OTHER  POEMS 

0 

By 
GEORGE  DU  BOIS 


1920 
THE  STRATFORD  CO.,  Publishers 

BOSTON  :  - :          MASSACHUSETTS 


Copyright  1920 

The  STRATFORD  CO.,  Publishers 
Boston,   Mass. 


The  Alpine  Press,   Boston,  Mass.,   U.  S.  A. 


Contents 

PAGE 

The  Voice  of  the  Silence    ....        1 

To  a  Lark  in  a  Cage    . 

Bohemia      .        .        .        .        •        •         •         4 

Immortality         . 

Futurity      .        .        ..."  .      10 

The  Spirit  of  Beauty  .        .  .      13 

Retrospection  (To  Josephine)     .        .        .      15 
Passer   Solitarius        .        ....       17 

Mimicrus  Ludicrus      .         .         ...       19 

Echo  Aetatum     .         .        .         .         ,        .       21 

Ocean  .        .        .        .        .        .        .      23 

Sylvester     .        .        .        .        '.'        .        .26 

In  Quest     .        .        .....      28 

Eros,  Guide  Me  .        .        .        .        .        .      30 

Pansies        .         .        .     '  .        .        .        .32 

Solitude       .        .      .,.        .        ,        ..34 
Secretae  Lachrymae    .         .        .        . .       .       35 

Vesperae  Vitae    .         .      v .        .        .'       .       36 
The  Law  of  Destiny    .        .        .        .         .36 

No  News  for  Mother  ...        .         .       37 

The  Voices  of  Flora  38 


623810 


CONTENTS 


Pensees 

I. 

II. 

III. 

IV. 

V. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 

X. 

Credo 


Deus  . 
Destiny 
Materia 

Elevation     .        * 
School  of  Existence 
Evolution 
Sympathy     .        . 
Justice .         . 
The  Critic    . 
Judgment    . 


JUVENILITIES 

Winter  in  Los  Angeles 
Divina  Fides 
Guide  Thou  My  Way  . 
Mid-Day  in  Galilee 
Mary    . 

TRANSLATIONS  FROM  THE  GREEK 
ANACREON 

Ver  .  .  .  .  . 
Anacreon  .  .  .  . 
Eros 


PAGE 
43 
43 
43 
43 
44 
44 
44 
45 
45 
45 
46 
47 


51 
53 
54 
56 

58 


63 
65 
66 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

ALCAEUS 

On  Sorro 68 

On  Desire 69 

MELEAGROS         .   •     .        .        .        .      70 
On  Cupid 72 

ARCHILOCHUS 

On  Despair 74 

On  Fortitude 75 

On  Himself 76 

BACHILDES 

On  Peace      .         .         .  .       .         .         .       77 

On  Care        .         .         .  .      .         .         .       79 

SIMONIDES 

On  Human  Existence  ....       80 
On  Virtue    ...         .         .         .82 

SATIRES 

Lullaby        . 85 

In  a  Cabaret.  .        .         .         .         .86 

The  Harlot  .  .        .         ...       87 

The  Vampire  .         .         .         .         .89 

Urbanity 90 

Creation  91 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

SATIRES  TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  CLASSICS — 
GREEK  AND  LATIN 

ANTIPATEE 

Venus 95 

Inspiration          ...         .         .96 
The  Nine  Muses  Terreste   ...      97 

PALLADAS,  OF  ALEXANDRIA 
Human  Insignificance         ...       98 
Human  Inquietude    ....       98 

Money         .        .        .        .        .        .99 

The  Enemy        ...        .        .99 

Femina        .         .         .         .         .         .100 

Cosmetics    .        .        .        .        .        .     102 

Nicaros       ."*  .        .        .        .     103 

ONESTES 
Poesy 104 

DIONYSIOS 
Desires       .        .        .        .        .        .     105 

CRATES 
The  Panacea       .        .        .        .       ..106 

ANONYMOUS 
Hymen        .      '   t        .         .         .        .     107 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Second  Nuptials 107 

Brevity  of  Life    .         .         .         .        .108 

LUCILIUS  GAIUS 

The  Toilette         .        .        .        .        .109 
Amity  .         .         .        ...        .110 

LUCIANUS 

False  Amity         .        .  .         .        .-    Ill 

Time     .         .         .         .  .        .        .112 

Talent  ...  .112 

Silence          .         .         .  .  .     112 

NESTOR 

Invocation  to  the  Muses        .        .        .113 

PAULUS 
Virtus  .        .        .        .        ...    114 

Vita  115 


The  Voice  of  the  Silence 

Oh,  the  voices  of  the  silence ! 
Oh,  those  penetrating  voices ! 
How  they  murmur  in  the  silence, 
In  tranquil  tones  devoid  of  pity. 


In  the  brilliance  and  the  glory 
Of  the  day  they  recount  a  story 
Of  the  past,  of  an  aspect  hoary, 
That  to  oblivion  we'd  fain  consign. 

In  tenebrous  night  they  tarry 
By  the  couch  your  soul  to  harry, 
As  a  falcon  pursues  its  quarry, 
With  solemn  censure  most  condign. 

But  in  his  soul  of  strife  so  weary 
Sounds  a  strange,  uninvited  query, 
Pronounced  in  an  accent  eerie, 
To  his  conscience  dormant  long: 

[1] 


SILVANIA 

What  doth  avail  this  base  conniving? 
Of  what  avail  my  strenuous  striving? 
What  is  the  use  of  vain  contriving  ? 
One  leaves  so  soon  the  fruit  of  wrong ! 

How  vain  the  quest  for  the  fatuous  fire ; 
The  glitter  of  gold:  that  insane  desire, 
If  employed  to  uplift  humanity  higher, 
Might  make  of  life  a  grand  sweet  song. 

Oh,  the  voices  of  the  silence ! 
Oh,  those  penetrating  voices ! 
How  they  convey  us  in  the  silence 
The  secret  of  the  way  to  grandeur. 


m 


SILVANIA 


To  a  Lark  in  a  Cage 

Poor  captive  bird,  whose  pretty  plumes 
Cut  and  disfigured  restrain  thy  flight, 
Fated  to  pass  an  existence  that  presumes 
Absence  of  elevated  place  and  light ; 

Enclosed  in  thy  narro  cage,  despair 
Must  often  seize  thee,  as  yon  pure  sky, — 
To  which  thy  pinions  thee  may  never  bear, — 
Tempts  the  captive  spirit  to  gladly  fly. 

'Tis  thus  with  man,  whose  spirit  fain 
Would  fell  the  fetters  Fate  forges  to  rise 
Above  the  sphere  of  labor,  care  and  pain, 
To  reach  the  goal  his  inner  soul  descries. 

Longing  to  escape  the  sordid  round 
Of  petty  strife,  at  which  his  soul  rebels 
To  attain  to  sphere  ideal  of  art,  where  sound 
Voices  melodious,  where  joy  his  pain  dispels. 


[3] 


SILVAN I A 


Bohemia 

We  are  a  grand  fraternity, 
Tho  we  no  nation  recognize; 
Of  a  noble  paternity, — 
Ditto  regarding  maternity, — 
Still  bon  ton  we  do  despise; 
Altho  time  and  eternity 
Attest  our  active  enterprise: 
Citizens  of  Bohemia. 

On  the  map  you'll  search  in  vain 
For  our  country  or  its  tongue; 
Some  may  treat  it  with  disdain, 
Procuring  jealousy  to  contain, 
Yet  many  have  its  praises  sung, 
Proud  neath  its  banner  to  remain, 
Numbered  our  patriots  among : 
Patriots  of  Bohemia. 

Merit  is  our  sole  divinity; 
Riches  we  do  not  desire; 
For  genius  evince  affinity, 

[4] 


SILVANIA 

A  veritable  consanguinity, 
Begardless  of  lingo  or  attire; 
We  frequent  only  the  vicinity 
Of  souls  who  elevate  us  higher: 
Condisciples  in  Bohemia. 

Our  mode  appears  a  disparity; 
A  mode  of  necessity  and  pain ; 
To  the  vulgar  we're  a  rarity, 
(View  exciting  our  hilarity), 
As  in  observing  us  they  fain 
Would  treat  us  with  charity, 
To  have  us  by  experience  gain : 
Paupers  in  Bohemia. 

Yet  we  have  no  cause  for  sorro, 
With  our  ideals  are  content; 
Never  do  we  seek  to  borro 
Trials  or  trouble  for  the  morro, 
Sure  that  Fate  will  ne'er  consent 
That  soul  or  body  should  go  farro 
For  what  we  need  in  all  event: 
Aspirants  in  Bohemia. 


[5] 


SILVANIA 


Immortality 

Dedicated  to  Don  Ignacio  Mariscal,  in  reply  to 
''Descanso  y  Vida." 

Eternal  question  on  this  mundane  sphere : 
' '  Surviveth  spirit  when  the  mortal  form 
A  rigid  cadaver  lieth  on  its  narro  bier, 
To  pulse  no  more,  that  no  fire  may  warm  ? 

"Where  go  the  grand  ideas  that  animate 
This  frame,  that  cause  the  vital  flo 
To  move  with  ardor,  those  eyes  dilate, 
That  marvels  operate, — where  do  they  go?" 

With  eye  material  on  the  universe  we  gaze, 
And,  incarnate,  try  to  pierce  the  gloom 
Involving  its  mystery,  to  kno  the  ways 
Of  the  Creator,  who  interposed  the  tomb. 

But  none  may  yonder  firmament  regard 
And  sensate  say :  ' '  There  is  no  Cause ! 
And  if  there  is,  it  has  the  labor  marred 
In  Nature,  by  creating  mortal  laws." 

[6] 


SILVANIA 

But  beside  the  grave  one  halteth  to  reflect : 
' '  Is  this  the  end  ?     Is  man  then  born  in  vain  ? 
His  fervent  prayers  receive  silent  neglect : 
No  pity  appears  to  ease  his  doubt  and  pain. 

"To  ardent  supplications  for  a  single  ray 
Of  light  divine  to  pierce  the  gloom  of  doubt, 
Tenebrous  shades  densely  obscure  the  way; 
The  forces  of  reason  put  to  ignoble  rout. 

"  'Tis  a  solace  to  kno  our  name  will  live 
For  generations  honored  by  compatriots; 
But  is  this  toto  ?     May  Nature  no  more  give  ? 
A  recompense  enjoyed  by  Judas  Iscariots!" 

Piteous  priests  cant  of  a  celestial  place, 
Where  repentant  spirits  find  eternal  peace, 
Or  basely  prate  of  an  inferno  devoid  of  grace, 
Where  dole  and  pain  and  sorro  never  cease. 

A  spirit  grand  these  sophistries  doth  deny, 
And  seeks  to  solve  the  problem  for  itself; 
To  be  finally  convinced  that  Death  is  our  ally, 
Offering  escape  from  a  sphere  of  sordid  pelf. 

Oh,  Muse  celestial,  aid  me  in  this  hour 
To  sound  a  note  of  solace  to  the  heart 

[7] 


SILVANIA 

That  no  comfort  finds ;  give  me  the  power 
To  point  the  way  that  may  joy  impart; 

The  way  that  doth  to  verity  conduce, 
To  firm  conviction  that  the  life  of  man 
Is  not  limited  to  one  existence,  that  abuse 
Of  moral  agency  doth  circumscribe  the  plan 

Of  the  Creator,  whose  omnipresent  care 
Permits  the  effects  that  we  as  cause  create, 
So  that  by  force  of  pain  we  learn  to  bear 
Our  cross  and  attain  the  summit  soon  or  late. 

The  life  of  man  resembles  that  of  a  flower, 
That  in  form  of  seed  is  to  soil  consigned, 
Where  by  virtue  of  strange  and  latent  power 
The  germ  one  day  arrives  to  leave  behind 

The  humid  soil,  that  like  a  prison  obscure 
Enveloped  till  the  hour  it  could  penetrate 
Those  dense  walls  material,  gross,  impure, 
To  expand  in  air  and  light,  to  beauty  great. 

Nature  in  every  part  teems  with  lessons  rare 
That  demonstrate  our  grandiose  career: 
The  vermin  vile  will  one  day  fare 
To  realms  of  light  and  air,  to  joy  and  cheer. 

[8] 


SILVANIA 

We  here  must  pass  the  terrestrial  stage 
The  Creator  wills,  ere  emerging  to  light ; 
We  must  in  combat  carnal  long  engage, 
Ere  passing  to  existence  spiritually  bright. 

One  day  we'll  kno  how  trivial  was  the  span 
Of  that  existence  correctly  called  of  clay ; 
That  we  are  heirs  to  the  Universe,  that  man 
Halts  here,  as  one  poor  station  on  the  way; 

On  the  infinite  way  of  spheres  more  fair, 
In  whose  ambient  merit  finds  a  minor  strife, 
Whence  force  divine  will  thy  essence  bear, 
That  it  attain  to  the  ideals  of  thy  life. 


[9] 


SILVANIA 


Futurity 
I. 

Recount  me  not  those  silly  tales 
Of  virgin  who  a  carnate  deity  bore, 
Vain  legend  of  peoples  who  lived  before, 
That  priests  to  their  proper  profit  turn, 
Enslaving  humanity  by  rites  and  fears. 


II. 


If  to  intelligence  incarnate  the  don 
We  have  received  to  survey  yon  globes, 
To  mete  the  distance,  to  kno  the  poise, 
'Tis  consequent  also  to  seek  the  Cause, 
To  kno  the  Creator  who  them  doth  move. 

III. 

Tho  in  every  action  of  this  life, 
No  effect  is  possible  sine  a  cause, 
We  perforce  infer  the  infinite  stars 

[10] 


SILVANIA 

Were  placed  by  a  potence  inconceivable 
To  our  mortal  esse  that  naught  creates. 

IV. 

As  we  perceive  our  mortal  frame 

Is  animated  by  a  pensant  soul, 

Whose  volition  our  every  nerve  may  move, 

So  we  for  the  essence  divine  do  seek, 

That  causes  the  movement  of  the  universe. 


V. 


If  the  soul  survives  this  carnal  form, 
Incorporeal,  invisible  to  mortal  eyes, 
'Tis  the  noblest  labor  of  the  Omnipotent, 
Whose  primary  creation,  the  universe, 
Extends  majestic  thru  infinite  space. 

VI. 

If  that   comprehension,    spirit,   soul, 
Or  what  it  be,  the  carnal  survive, 
The  essence  divine  will  surely  guide 
To  destiny  eternal,  to  other  spheres 
Of  progress,  to  thus  attain  our  goal. 

[11] 


SILVANIA 
VII. 

In  prison  material  are  we  retained, 
A  subtle  essence  in  a  closed  phial ; 
Rupture  the  case : — we  float  across 
The  infinite  space,  to  perpetual  stars, 
A  spiritual  perfume,  soul  unrestrained. 

VIII. 

On  electric  waves  thru  immeasurable  space, 
The  pulsations  of  the  core  of  infinity. 
Will  conduce  us  along  the  arteries  of  Fate, 
Vibrating  in  accord  with  planetary  rays, 
Sensing  we're  a  part  of  the  essence  divine. 

IX. 

So,  preach  me  not  of  a  celestial  paradise, 
Of  angels  chanting  to  dulcet  sound  of  harps ; 
Oh,  Humanity,  dispel  those  dreams  of  vice, 
To  kno  that  creation  is  a  grand  symphony, 
A  progress  eternal  of  the  essential  soul. 


[12] 


SILVANIA 


The  Spirit  of  Beauty 

I  am  the  spirit  of  beauty,  entity  whose  age 
Humanity  may  ne'er  calculate,  whose  origin 
Was  divine,  due  to  those  laws  that  ruled 
The  evolution  of  vivid  Nature  from  chaos. 

I  am  the  force  that  most  potently  animates 
The  core  of  Nature,  that  perfection  in  form, 
Of  color,  contour,  the  indescriptible  grace, 
That  is  in  toto  my  sole  mission  to  infuse. 

The  infinite  vault  of  space  an  azure  tint 
I  paint,  in  harmony  with  the  auric  orbs; 
The  restless  ocean  a  denser  blue  I  tinge, 
To  form  a  contrast  with  the  rocky  rives. 

The  exquisite  tints  of  the  tender  flower 
I  trace  in  many  degrees,  that  richer  seem 
Crowning  the  verdure  of  the  parent  plant, 
In  suave  tones  that  to  rival  my  adepts  essay. 

Nor   content   am   I   my   mission   to   perform 
On  the  surface  merely,  but  I  descend 

[13] 


SILVANIA 

To  the  caves  of  ocean  most  profound, 
To  the  very  core  of  Terra  I  penetrate. 

In  the  strata  of  rock  I  softly  trace 
Rich  colors  to  please  the  avid  eye ; 
The  mollusca  I  touch  with  tender  tones, 
Whose  delicacy  to  rival  the  rose  defy. 

In  man  I  inculcate  in  grander  degree 
The  desire  for  beauty,  to  depict,  enjoy ; 
The  sense  of  imitation  that  has  proved 
To  civilization  the  most  potent  force. 

In  the  savage  I  infuse  a  sublime  idea 
In  embryo,  to  cause  him  to  rudely  adorn 
His  person  with  gaudy  objects,  to  imitate 
Forms  purer,  of  evolution  the  primary  law. 

I  am  the  spirit  of  beauty,  more  grandevous 
Than  Luna,  than  Terra,  aye,  e'en  than  Sol, 
For  I  embrace  the  infinity  of  the  universe: 
Of  the  Deity  Omnipotent  I  form  a  part. 


[14] 


SILVANIA 


Retrospection 
To  Josephine. 

In  the  calm  hour  of  crepuscule, 
When  the  fervid  light  gros  gray, 

My  soul,  replete  with  pathos, 
To  the  past  is  borne  away. 

The  strange  calm  invades  my  spirit, 
Like  the  tranquil  hours  of  age, 

That  succeed  the  day  of  passion, 
When  its  fire  has  ceased  to  rage. 

And  the  desire  that  possessed  me 
During  the  day,  now  changes  tone ; 

Melancholy  vague  invades  me, 
As  I  pass  on  my  way,  alone. 

I  see  the  lights  of  the  city 
Gleaming  thru  the  misty  haze, 

But  one  to  my  very  soul  enters, 
Recalling  dreams  of  other  days. 

[15] 


SILVANIA 

'Tis  the  light  that  in  your  windo 
At  eve  you  were  wont  to  place, 

As  a  sign  of  the  cheer  and  comfort 
I  would  see  in  your  tender  face. 

In  that  humble  chamber  haunted 
With  tones  of  a  mystic  rhyme, 

I  revive  the  words  inscribed 
In  the  terrible  tomes  of  Time. 

As  a  mood  of  ineffable  longing 

Returns  for  moments  now  no  more, 

To  flood  me  with  love  and  pity, 
Aye,  with  sorro,  for  days  of  yore. 

Exile  am  I  from  the  loved  country, 
Recalling  dreams  of  other  days ; 

Watching  for  the  light  in  your  windo, 
Gleaming  thru  the  misty  haze. 


[16] 


SILVANIA 


Passer  Solitarius 

Poor  rescued  swallo,  why  seek  to  flee? 

Repose  thy  weary  form  upon  my  breast; 
Am  I  not  a  lonely  traveler  like  thee, 

Vainly  seeking  for  a  place  to  rest  ? 

In  this  desert  of  Destiny  our  fates 

Have  a  strange  resemblance ;  only  stay 

Till  thy  weary  wings  are  rested,  then 
Continue  refreshed  on  thy  way. 

From  thy  native  nest,  the  same  as  I, 
A  cruel  fate  destined  thee  to  roam ; 

Thy  beloved  ones  are  scattered,  gone : 
Vagrants  are  we, — without  a  home. 

Exiled  by  the  snos  of  wintry  scenes, 
By  melancholy  grey  of  northern  sky, 

Thou  hast  southward  fled  to  seek  repose, 
To  faint  with  fatigue, — the  same  as  I. 

Solitary,  thou  goest  on  thy  way: 
Perchance  disillusioned,  like  me; 

[17] 


SILVANIA 

Sensing  also  the  need  of  a  caress, 
Like  a  memory  of  days  of  infancy. 

No;  thou  too,  perhaps,  in  tender  age, 
Lost  thy  mother  by  some  fatal  bio, 

Whose  memory  is  the  sole  sacred  tie, 
The  only  one  divine  for  us  belo. 


Repose  thy  weary  form  upon  my  breast ; 

Lonely,  exiled  travelers  are  we; 
Rest,  ere  departing  for  the  sky, 

Where  some  day  I  will  folio  thee. 


SILVANIA 


Mimicrus  Ludicrus 

In  a  cathedral  grand  I  entered, 
My  attention  on  the  music  centered, 
That  strange  secrets  to  me  revealed; 
Its  spirit  with  my  senses  blending, 
To  abysses  profound  descending, 
To  chasms  until  then  concealed. 

In  its  intoning 

I  heard  moaning, 
As  of  souls  in  mortal  anguish, 
Who  reject  the  light  to  languish, 
Intoning  the  errors  of  the  aeons, 
Moaning  terror  in  pompous  paeons, 

Of  horrid  place, 

Devoid  of  grace. 

In  the  cathedral  that  I  entered, 
Sad  secrets  were  to  me  revealed, 
By  poor  souls  in  fear  descending, 
Souls  rejecting  light  to  languish, 
Intoning  the  errors  of  the  aeons, 
Moaning  terror  in  pompous  paeons, 

[19] 


SILVANIA 

Of  infernal  place. 
Fears  that  debase. 

The  acrid  incense  in  it  floating 
Seemed  spirits  of  evil  gloating 
O'er  the  farce  to  view  displayed; 
The  multitude  devoutly  kneeling, 
The  organ  notes  sonorous  pealing, 
Before  an  altar  richly  made. 

Pomp  resplendent, 

Riches  intendent, 
Tawdry  priests  for  gain  deceiving, 
The  multitude  inane,  believing, 
The  humble  Christ  in  pomp  parading, 
The  poor  in  ignorance  degrading: 

A  creed  of  pain, 

Of  priestly  gain. 

Spirits  malefic  seemed  floating 
0  'er  the  puerile  farce  displayed : 
The  multitude  in  tatters  kneeling, 
The  prey  of  avid  priests  deceiving ; 
The  humble  Christ  in  pomp  parading, 
The  poor  in  ignorance  degrading : 

A  creed  of  pain, 

Of  priestly  gain. 

[20] 


SILVANIA 


Echo  Aetatum 

Echoes  trembling  in  the  distance, 
Memories  of  some  past  existence, 
Vaguely  vanquishing  resistance, 
In  a  language  strange  but  clear; 

Like  a  ray  of  rude  reflection, 
Mutely  cruel  in  its  detection, 
Acutely  fair  in  its  perfection, 
Piercing  core  and  eye  and  ear. 

Intermingling  pain  and  pleasure, 
Harmonious  in  its  stately  measure, 
Discovering  an  occult  treasure, 
In  my  soul,  as  they  appear. 

They  the  phantasma  of  the  ages, 
Who  have  traced  historic  pages, 
For  the  masses,  princes,  sages : 
"Tis  their  voices  that  I  hear. 

Voices  from  remotest  regions, 
Voices  of  uncounted  legions, 

[21] 


SILVANIA 

From  the  ultra-stellar  regions, 
Sounding  from  an  ignote  space; 

A  melody  of  the  spirit  vernal, 
Harmony  of  the  grace  supernal, 
Purity  of  vita  sempiternal, 
Where  the  Eternal  shos  his  face. 

Here  the  mortal  struggle  ceases; 
At  this  portal  love  increases; 
Love  our  base  desire  surceases, 
With  no  bias  of  tongue  or  race. 

Only  spirits  vile  sense  sorro, 
With  a  clear  hope  for  the  morro ; 
Errors  past  are  their  sole  sorro, 
Assigning  them  inferior  place. 

Echoes  of  the  past  vibrating, 
From  a  pure  source  emanating, 
A  million  memories  relating, 
In  the  progress  of  the  soul. 

Tis  the  apex  of  its  glory; 
'Tis  the  climax  of  its  story ; 
'Tis  the  acme  of  Time  hoary: 
The  attainment  of  our  goal. 

[22] 


SILVANIA 


Ocean 

Roaring, 

Pouring, 

Boiling  waves  of  the  sea  gigantic, 
Shoaling  o'er  the  sands  in  frantic 
Chase  of  pebbles,  ever  purling, 
Race  of  ripples,  ever  curling; 

Tumbling, 

Rumbling, 

Beating  along  the  shining  shingle, 
Retreating  where  voices  variant  mingle 

In  eternal  monotone, 

On  the  craggy  keys  of  stone 
Playing  with  pallid,  frigid  fingers, 
Staying  like  a  soul  that  lingers, — 
Merging  into  solemn  funeral  knell, 

Tolling, 

Rolling ; 

Surging  anew  o'er  its  breast  of  shell. 
Oh,  ye  voices  variant  of  the  ocean, 
Spirit  of  Nature,  in  mighty  motion, 

[23] 


SILVANIA 

Will  you  tell 

Me  where  dwell 

The  deities  of  immortal  history? 
The  secret  of  their  ancient  mystery  ? 
Sho  me  the  goal ; 

Where  goes  the  soul? 

Grumbling, 

Tumbling, 

Groaning  like  huge  beast  in  travail, 
Moaning  its  mysteries  to  unravel, 
Pounding  like  Hercules  enraged; 
Sounding  like  demons  dire  encaged ; 

Spraying, 

Flaying, 

Spuming  in  fury  as  it  rushes, 
Fuming  vapors  in  angry  gushes: 

Its  ereunic  monotone 

Changes  into  a  cyclone. 
Voices  on  the  wind  seem  wailing, 
Voices  now  in  tone  of  railing, 
Deriding  in  mortal  such  pretension, 

Crying, 

Dying, 

Subsiding  a  moment  their  dissension ; 
Then  the  mingled  voices  roaring, 

[24] 


SILVANIA 

To  the  very  stars  seem  soaring: 

This,  oh,  mortal, 

Is  the  portal, 

Where  souls  weary  cease  their  toiling, 
Where  the  evil  cease  despoiling, 
And  the  spirit  leaves  the  carnal, 
On  the  search  for  grace  supernal, 

Into  vivid  space  to  soar, 

On  its  journey  evermore. 


[25] 


SILVANIA 


Sylvester 

I  have  erred  into  this  valley, 
Into  this  vale  of  aspect  gray, 
Where  the  shados  densely  lay; 
And  my  soul  seeks  not  to  sally 
From  this  dim,  solitary  valley, 
With  its  acrid  odors  of  decay. 

Every  tree  a  phantom  seemeth, — 
Spirit,  that  my  soul  hath  known 
In  the  fair  days  forever  flown ; 

Every  rock  with  fancy  teemeth; 

Foliage  with  gray  eyes  gleameth, 
As  I  pass  on  my  way, — alone. 

Mid  the  vulgar  one  is  more  solitary 
Than  in  silva  mid  invisible  sprites, 
Whose  murmur  to  meditation  invites; 
Whose  mute  lingo  mocking  or  merry, 
A  solace  infuses  in  the  solitary, 
A  true  source  of  exquisite  delights. 

[26] 


SILVANIA 

But  the  goblins  invade  my  seclusion; 
Every  shado  secretes  now  a  gnome, 
Every  rock  seems  an  uncanny  home, 
And  my  past  appears  but  a  delusion, 
That  unrols  like  souls  in  confusion, 

Who  mid  tombs  are  destined  to  roam. 

I  vague  in  the  sombre  gray  valley ; 
In  each  rock  I  encounter  a  tomb, 
A  grave  in  each  gathering  gloom, 
Of  souls  fled,  hopes  dead,  that  sally 
Like  phantoms  to  haunt  the  lone  valley, 
Like  a  menace  of  ultimate  doom. 


[27] 


SILVANIA 


In  Quest 

In  the  musty  retreats  of  the  forest, 
Where  the  rusty  hues  of  the  foliage 
Reflect  the  sombre  tone  of  ideas, 
That  surge  like  a  sea  in  torment, 
That  urge  me  to  seek  for  Psyche, 
With  Psyche  my  soul,  for  solace. 

With  anguish  I  seek  in  the  silva, 
Where  languish  the  spirits  of  ages, 
The  echo  of  voices  e'er  cherished, 
That  resound  from  a  country  distant, 
That  confound  in  a  multiple  murmur, 
In  recesses  recondite  of  my  being. 

In  quest  of  a  key  that  may  open ; 
Some  test  to  disclose  the  portal, 
That  conduces  to  vistas  of  glory, 
Where  we  enter  a  sphere  ignored, 
To  a  centre  of  reason  and  beauty, 
In  communion  divine  with  the  ages. 

[28] 


SILVANIA 

In  the  rusty  retreats  of  the  forest, 
Where  the  musty  hues  of  the  foliage 
Reflect  the  sombre  tone  of  ideas, 
That  surge  like  a  sea  in  torment, 
That  urge  me  to  seek  for  Psyche, 
With  Psyche  my  soul,  for  solace. 


SILVANIA 


Eros,  Guide  Me 

Tho  the  continent  divide  us, 

Tho  the  Fates  seem  to  deride  us, 

Yet  I  hear  her  voice  so  plainly, 

Sense  her  tender  touch  of  yore ; 

Angels  "bear  to  me  the  murmur, 

That  Psyche  my  soul  repeats  in  firmer 

Tones  than  Eros  ever  heard  before : 

Eros,  guide  me !  Eros,  guide  me ! 
Tho  infernal  pains  betide  me ! 
Guide  me  to  that  voice  directly, 
Voice  that  thru  ages  I'll  adore; 
Law  and  distance  must  not  duant  me ; 
Let  remorse  no  longer  haunt  me : 
Permit  not,  Eros,  that  I  suffer  more. 

Exile  and  time  have  ne'er  effaced 
The  memory  of  her  love  misplaced ; 
Her  soft  brown  eyes  seem  yet  burning, 
Gazing  yet  into  my  very  core, 
Perceiving  there  a  spirit  hardy, 

[30] 


SILVANIA 

Destined  to  kno  its  loss  too  tardy 
That  Psyche  my  soul  doth  now  deplore. 

Eros,  guide  me !  Eros,  guide  me ! 
Let  thy  flame  for  aye  decide  me ! 
Let  me  see  those  eyes  so  darkly, 
Eyes  that  forever  I  must  adore ! 
Daily,  nightly  have  they  sought  me ; 
Pain  and  exile  have  dearly  taught  me, 
The  words  of  pardon  that  I  implore. 


[31J 


SILVANIA 


Pansies 
PENSEES 

Pensive  pansies,  whose  fair  faces 
Irradiate  joy  from  humble  places, 
Whose  tender  eyes  encountering  mine 

Convey  me  ideas  pure,  divine. 

*  *  * 

What  is  possible  only  you  should  desire; 

Errant  is  he  who  seeks  what  is  not ; 
Dulcifying  the  acrid,  and  thus  aspire 

To  more  commonplace  but  happier  lot. 

*  *  # 

A  strange  destiny  surrounds  us, — 

A  fate  we  fail  to  comprehend; 
The  mystery  of  life  confounds  us, — 

Wherein  matter  and  spirit  blend. 

*  *  * 

The  Eternal  Father  willeth 
That  the  noble  suffer  most; 

He  their  lives  with  crosses  filleth, 
While  their  duties  here  are  host. 

[32] 


SILVANIA 

In  candent  crucible  is  refined 

The  precious  metal,  while  the  dross 

Is  returned  to  earth,  consigned 
One  to  grandeur,  one  to  loss. 


33] 


SILVANIA 


Solitude 

There  is  a  solitude  appalling: 
The  solitude  of  one  alone; 

But  there's  a  solitude  more  galling: 
Of  two  souls  wed  in  disunion. 


Every  virtue  you  may  acquire, 
Simply  seeking  to  form  a  place 

In  your  soul,  where  a  sacred  fire 
Endures,  till  no  touch  can  e'er  efface. 


[34] 


SILVANIA 


Secretae  Lachrymae 

In  the  morn  you  visit  the  valley, 

An  azure  sky  to  see ; 
In  its  limpid  light  to  dally: 

How  beauteous  is  the  lea! 
But  you  ignore  that  in  the  night  hours 

Heavily  fell  the  -rain, 
On  the  fainting,  faded  flowers, 

Now  fresh  and  fair  again. 

Ah !  each  soul  doth  conceal  a  sorro, 
Neath  a  countenance  serene, 

That  none  may  note  on  the  morro 
Tears  that  fall  at  night  unseen. 


[35] 


SILVANIA 


Vesperae  Vitae 

How  serene  is  the  eve  of  life 

Of  one  who  virtuous  lives !  The  crepuscule 
Of  the  sun  on  that  horizon  is  rife 

With  rosy  tints  that  minor  colors  rule. 

And  when  o'er  him  the  night  doth  close, 
It  brings  no  fear,  and  in  his  narro  nest, 

As  one  repairs  to  couch  of  soft  repose, 
Weary  of  toil,  he  goes  to  rest. 

The  Law  of  Destiny 

Man  is  an  atom  in  the  infinite  space, 
Whose  course  by  volition  he  may  guide 

To  noble  ideal,  in  the  universe  trace 
The  destiny  that  unerring  laws  decide. 

His  acts  are  creatures,  which  conduce 
To  the  ways  of  obscurity  or  of  light; 

Angels  or  demons,  to  elevate  or  reduce 
To  the  regions  of  eternal  day  or  night. 

[36] 


SILVANIA 


No  News  for  Mother 
Dedicated  to  Mrs.  Amelia  St.  Morris 

No  news  from  my  darling  boy  today ! 

What  does  it  mean?   where  can  he  be? 
At  sight  of  his  words  with  joy  I  pray 

The  Father  to  keep  him  from  danger  free. 

If  he  only  knew  how  a  few  lines  bring 
Cheer  to  my  heart,  how  none  is  sorro, 

He  'd  ne  'er  neglect  so  small  a  thing : 
But  surely  he  will  write  tomorro. 


[37] 


SILVANIA 


The  Voices  of  Flora 

Around  me  a  group  of  fragile  faces, 
Rich  in  color,  that  no  artist 
E'er  may  hope  in  tone  to  rival, 
Range  with  eyes  of  glaucous  glory. 

Very  quietly  to  me  they  murmur 
Secrets  of  a  sphere  unnoted, 
In  a  mute  but  merry  lingo, 
Respiring  a  perfume  captivating. 

Ah,  fairy  faces  of  the  forest, 
Humble  porters  of  a  message, 
None  is  too  grand  to  listen  loly : 
None  too  sage  to  despise  the  lesson. 

Pansies   of  the   shadowy   silva, 
Violets  alban,  blue  or  azure, 
The  radiant  rose,  the  dainty  daisy, 
E'en  the  pale  poppy  recount  a  story. 

[38] 


SILVANIA 

They  murmur  of  humility,  of  beauty, 
Of  color,  perfume  in  humble  places, 
Of  Destiny,  Deity  and  Duty, 
Of  ignote  charms  and  native  graces. 


139] 


PENSEES 


I. 

Deus 

Deus  whose  form  and  substance  none 
May  ever  hope  to  comprehend, 

Yet  lives  in  us,  and  his  sign  the  sun 
Proves  that  his  love  is  without  end. 

II. 
Destiny 

Destiny  and  Duty  is  labor  and  love, 

In  imitation  of  the  divine  plan: 
For  thus  we  rise  to  those  realms  of 

Light  where  the  divine  is  evolved  in  man. 

III. 
Materia 

Materia  is  but  a  transient  phase, 
That  we  must  pass  in  pain  and  woe, 

Destined  by  spirit  our  state  to  raise, 
And  purer  spheres  one  day  to  kno. 

[43] 


SILVANIA 

IV. 
Elevation 

If  thou  wouldst  rise  to  higher  spheres, 
Direct  thine  eyes  toward  the  heights; 

Each  battle  gained  means  countless  years 
Of  spiritual  joy  and  intense  delights. 

V. 
School  of  Existence 

Our  being  to  a  school  may  be  compared, 

A  school  where  the  boy  long  lessons  learns, 

And  he  who  masters  goes  forth  prepared 
To  fill  the  post  for  which  he  yearns. 

And  on  this  sphere  of  material  aims, 
Of  base  egoism  and  of  gross  desire, 

To  suffer  is  perforce  what  tames 
And  tempers  the  spirit  to  nobler  fire. 

VI. 
Evolution 

'Tis  our  destiny  here  by  nobility 
To  evolve  by  the  force  of  labor  and  love 

[44] 


SILVANIA 

That  we  may  observe  of  the  Deity, 
In  each  atom  belo  and  in  orbs  above. 

VII. 
Sympathy 

Sympathy  is  a  scintilla  divine, 
That  emanates  from  a  noble  soul, 

Which  the  Creator  placed  in  it  as  sign 
Of  his  love  for  us  in  a  sphere  of  dole. 

VIII. 
Justice 

'Tis  the  duty  of  man  to  e'er  seek  the  light, 
To  hate  and  judge  only  what  is  vile  or  base ; 

The  creature  most  hideous  rejoices  the  sight 
If  the  soul  is  lovely :  one  notes  not  the  face. 

IX. 
The  Critic 

Piteous  is  the  person  whose  petulant  bile 
And  envy  cause  him  to  see  only  defects 

Everywhere,  with  ne  'er  a  soft  word  or  smile : 
For  being  evil  he  but  evil  in  others  detects. 

[45] 


SILVANIA 

X. 
Judgment 

Jesus  judged  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees, 
In  language  violent,  but  the  gentle  and  true 

He  praised,  and  cured  them  of  their  disease, 
Seeking  a  higher  moral  in  man  to  imbue. 

And  while  we  in  him  may  but  concede 
A  nature  quite  as  human  as  our  own 

His  potent  phrase  forms  the  only  creed 
To  apply  to  evil,  that  it  may  atone. 


[46] 


SILVANIA 


Credo 

My  credo  is  clear 

As  the  day  is  clear: 

The  power  divine 
Removeth  every  doubt  and  fear, 
And  changeth  dole  to  joy  and  cheer, 

If  I  resign 
My  will,  and  thus  dispelling  fear; 

Why  then  repine? 

It  is  not  a  way 

Of  tenebrous  day 

That  the  mystic  soul 
Regardeth  in  the  fair  array 
Of  stars  that  ever  seem  to  say, 

As  e'er  they  roll: 
The  force  that  turns  the  globe  of  clay, 

Doth  them  control. 


[47] 


JUVENILITIES 


Winter  in  Los  Angeles 

Queen  city,  guarded  by  the  mountain  range, 
That  protects  thee  from  hibernal  change, 
Thou  sittest,  enthroned  in  beauty  rare, 
Amid  thy  noble  hills  and  valleys  fair, 
That  rapidly  descending  seem  to  be 
Thy  pedestal,  laved  by  the  sounding  sea. 

Thy  hills,  the  slopes,  each  intervening  dale, 
Are  replete  with  charm,  and  every  gentle  gale 
Lifts  the  huge  fans  of  palms,  then  flies 
To  orange  groves,  to  revel  in  the  waxy  prize, 
The  snowy  blossoms,  or  mid  the  scented  fruit, 
To  rob  their  fragrance  as  its  just  tribute. 

Unchilled  by  blasts  of  the  boreal  breath, 
Neath  azure  skies  thy  verdure  knos  not  death ; 
While  many  climes  are  trist  neath  frigid  frown, 
Thy  vales  are  gay  with  sunlight  sifted  down; 
And  tho  so  seeming  near,  on  the  mountain 
brow, 

[51] 


SILVANIA 

Like  a  corona  of  silver  gleams  the  chastened 

snow, 

Winter  dares  within  thy  realm  no  nearer  roam ; 
Too  well  he  knows  the  confines  of  his  icy  home. 

From  this  fair  height  look  down  where  gro 
Long  extending  orange  groves  belo, 
Whose  glossy  foliage  and  clustering  shade, 
Like  huge  emeralds  gleam  with  gold  inlaid. 
Near  lies  a  vineyard  where  late  a  merry  band 
Piled  high  the  luscious  treasure  of  the  land ; 
When  ruddily  hath  the  fragrant  vintage  run, 
And  the  pearly  muscat  withered  in  the  sun. 

Yon  are  orchards  where  stately  olives  rise, 
And  branching  figs,  fair  'neath  italic  skies, 
While  thru  the  vale,  from  a  mountain  source, 
The  shimmering  river  takes  its  winding  course, 
Whose  waters,  during  long  calid  summer  hours, 
Refresh  avid  plants,  till  benefic  showers 
In  winter  arrive,  on  fleecy  clouds  to  dower 
Pale  verdured  fields  with  recreative  power. 

Mark  the  bright  vales,  the  mountain  chain, 
The  rolling  hills,  the  extending  plain, 
Where  the  city  in  beauty  semi  tropic  lies, 
Mid  scenes  as  fair  as  those  of  paradise. 

[52] 


SILVANIA 


Divina  Fides 

Creator  Omnipotent,  Power  Divine, 
Tho  invisible,  I  kno  thou  art. 

If  doubts  arise, 

Or  fact  decries 

The  Word,  yet  ever  in  my  heart 
I  adore  the  presence  of  thy  sign. 

He  who  with  Nature  doth  converse, 
Notes  the  orb  of  day,  the  starry  night, 

Must  fain  declare, 

Mid  scenes  so  fair, 
We're  but  frail  creatures  of  the  might 
Of  the  grand  Author  of  the  universe. 


[53] 


SILVANIA 


Guide  Thou  My  Way 

Creator  of  refuge,  thru  this  sombre  space, 

Guide  thou  my  way ! 
By  these  long  paths  diverse  unto  the  face 

Of  glorious  day. 

To  tread  alone  the  mazes  of  the  wild  I  fear: 
I  pray  thee  guide  me  thru  this  valley  drear. 

Oft  from  thy  gentle  guidance  have  I  strayed, 

In  my  fair  day; 
Tho  when  the  pensive  eve  obscured,  I  prayed : 

Guide  thou  my  way ! 

No  other  friend  I  found,  e'er  so  truly  kind, 
E'en  to  me  so  frequently  to  thy  mercy  blind. 

From  trials  in  divine  justice  sent,  I  turned, 

And  ceased  to  pray ; 
Firm  pride  or  fierce  unrest  within  me  burned : 

Guide  thou  my  way ! 

In  vain  a  friend  I  sought  amid  the  multitude ; 
In  pain  I  experience  bought  from  ingratitude. 

[54] 


SILVANIA 

'Tis  thus;  no  love  save  thine  doth  e'er  abide, 

So  surely  stay; 
Thy  hand  will  safely  lead  me  to  the  other  side  : 

Guide  thou  my  way ! 

The  rocky  pits  along  the  spiny  paths  gro  light, 
But  safe  am  I  within  thy  care  in  darkest  night. 


|55] 


SILVANIA 


Mid-Day  in  Galilee 

In  pale  cerulean  sky  the  sun  is  shining 
With  meridian  force  on  fair  Galilee, 

That  lies  inert,  e'en  the  plants  repining, 
Languish  as  in  pain,  and  the  tranquil  sea. 

Glints  with  a  million  bright  reflections, 

As  tho  signaling  her  secret  love 
To  ardent  Sol,  while  in  all  directions 

Naught  moves,  save  the  lucent  orb  above. 

From  the  ruddy  hills  a  breeze  brings  faintly 
A  tone  to  disturb  the  sepulchral  calm; 

For  then  arise  some  figures  quaintly 

Garbed  that  dozed  neath  a  spreading  palm. 

Now,  from  a  mosque  a  Moslem  crier 
In  dreary  tones  the  hour  doth  tell; 

Each  matron  at  the  chimney  stirs  the  fire, 
While  maids  carry  water  from  the  well. 

Few  the  changes  since  the  days  the  Master 
Descended  yon  streets,  by  faith  to  cure ; 

[56] 


Assembling  his  band  like  a  tender  pastor, 
To  impart  the  precepts  of  his  doctrine  pure. 


An  ineffable  halo  now  seems  to  hover 

0  'er  the  place ;  those  crumbling  walls  appear 

Grave  secrets  of  the  sacred  past  to  cover 
And  the  souls  to  the  heart  of  the  Savior  dear. 


[57] 


SILVANIA 


Mary 

1Who  does  not  love  this  little  name, 

So  simple,  short  and  neat, 
So  full  of  poetry  and  love, 
And  all  that's  fair  and  sweet? 

A  Mary  bore  our  Savior  Lord, 
And  watched  his  early  years ; 

A  Mary  humbly  kissed  his  feet, 
And  washed  them  with  her  tears. 

Two  Marys  ministered  to  him, 
In  sunshine  and  in  gloom; 

They  lingered  longest  at  the  cross, 
And  earliest  sought  his  tomb. 

And  thou,  sweet  idol  of  my  youth, 
The  spirit  of  each  dream, 

That  flashed  across  my  early  years, 
Like  a  meteoric  gleam. 


1  Memory    of   verses    in    scrap-book   of   my   mother. 

[58] 


SILVANIA 

I'll  ne'er  forget  thy  mortal  span, 

So  fleeting,  pure  and  fair, 
That  gives  thy  name  of  mystic  rhyme 

A  charm  beyond  compare. 

1  And  thou,  sweet  Mary  mother  mine, 
Whose  sainted  name  I  bear 

Within  the  temple  of  my  heart, 
Sacred  beyond  compare. 

Tho  memory  is  dim  of  my  infancy, 
When  thou  didst  pass  away, 

It  must  ever  pure  and  verdant  be, 
Till  I  am  senseless  clay. 

And  oft  in  meditative  hours 

My  tears  unheeded  flo, 
As  I  pronounce  thy  sacred  name, 

And  pray  surcease  from  woe. 

The  name  which  utters  all  that's  pure, 
That  whispers  hope  and  love ; 

The  purest  name  on  human  lips, 
Or  heard  in  realms  above. 


2  Additional  original  lines. 

[59] 


SILVANIA 

Who  does  not  love  this  little  name, 
So  simple,  short  and  neat, 

So  full  of  poetry  and  love, 
And  all  that's  fair  and  sweet? 


[60] 


TRANSLATIONS   FROM    THE    GREEK 


ANACREON 


Ver 

In  the  days  vernal 

The  Graces  strew  roses; 
The  blue  sea  tranquillizes, 

Its  boreal  fury  reposes; 
And  the  heron  is  seen, 

And  the  alb  an  swans  furro 
The  lake  crystalline. 

The  rosy  finger  of  Helios 

The  gray  nebula  condenses 
O'er  the  labor  of  mortals, 

That  blind  Plutus  dispenses : 
Every  seed  germinating, 

In  valley  or  mountain, 
A  rare  charm  disseminating 

O'er  desert  and  fountain. 

Incipient  flowers  the  rami 
Of  the  olive  are  blanching ; 

Crowned  with  ruby  foliage, 
The  vines  seem  stanching 

[63] 


SILVANIA 

The  vital  fluids  of  Nature, 
That  presently  nourish 

The  fruits  so  desired, 

That  there  richly  flourish. 


[64] 


SILVANIA 


Anacreon 

I  care  not  for  Kroisos, 
Nor  envy  his  treasure; 
I  desire  but  pleasure ; 

The  wine  that  rejoices. 

I  desire  but  fresh  roses, 
To  twine  in  my  tresses, 
A  plectro  and  caresses, 

While  near  Eros  poses. 

It  imports  very  little 
That  me  awaits  sorro ! 
I  rejoice!    For  tomorro 

I  care  not  a  tittle. 


[65] 


SILVANIA 

ANACREON 

Eros 

It  was  midnight : 

In  the  vault  serene 

Ursa  only  seemed  to  roll 

Her  constant  course  around  the  Pole. 

Mortals   resposed 

In  calm  profound, 

"When  tiny  Eros,  at  my  gate, 

Rudely  knocked,  at  hour  so  late. 

"Who's  there?"  I  cried. 

"Who  thus  disturbs  my  rest?" 
"I'm  but  a  boy,"  he  lo  replied; 

"Open;  let  me  be  thy  guest. 
A  cruel  tempest  bios,"  he  sighed; 

"I  pray  thee  let  me  share  thy  nest." 

Pitying  I  heard, 

And  porting  light, 
I  oped,  and  an  angel  boy, 

[66] 


SILVANIA 

With  bo  and  quiver,  met  my  sight. 
I  bade  him  enter,  and  with  joy 

Close  to  the  chimney  placed  a  stool, 
Solicitous  for  his  sorry  plight, 

Blindly,  like  many  another  fool. 

Once  restored  and  warm: 

"Give  me  the  bo;  let's  see 
If  the  cord  is  injured  by  the  storm," 

He  proffered  in  dulcet  tone  to  me. 
He  placed  an  arro,  let  it  soar, 

To  penetrate  my  very  core. 

Deriding  my  pain, 

The  ingrate  cried: 
"The  arros  of  Eros  are  not  in  vain, 

For  love  must  ever  conquer  pride." 


[67] 


SILVANIA 

ALCAEUS 

On  Sorro 

What  utility  do  we  obtain 

In  our  breast  to  nourish  sorro  ? 
What  advantage  do  we  gain 

In  mortal  anguish  for  the  morro  ? 
Serve,  then,  rich  wine,  oh,  boy! 

There's  no  remedy  of  better  savor 
Its  exhilaration  let's  enjoy. 

And  of  Bacchus  court  the  favor. 


SILVANIA 


ALCAEUS 


On  Desire 

Oh,  if  my  lyre  were 

Of  ivory  fabricated; 

If  I  to  the  chorus  of  Bacchus  might 

Be  borne  by  a  band  inebriated, 

Formed  of  adolescents  gay, 

Beauteous  as  dawn  of  day, 

Merry  as  lambs  at  play, 

And,  as  acme  of  joy  above, 

Of  a  fair  damsel  have  the  love. 


[69] 


SILVANIA 


Meleagros 

Of  my  love  in  vain, 

Of  my  grief  and  pain, 

Of  my  dole,  I  dream : 

Come,  then,  gentle  cricket, 

Dulcet  cantor  of  the  valley 

Whose  voice  doth  soothe  the  ear 

Of  the  peasant  solitary, 

With  thy  cricri  divine, 

So  strangely  imitating 

The  sound  of  suave  lyre : 

Sing  me  a  gentle  air, 

Full  of  joy  and  festive, 

And  if  my  heavy  core, 

And  if  my  sorro  sore 

With  soft  sleep  thou  curest, 

In  oblivion  tender, 

I  promise  thee  to  pay 

With  the  dew  most  limpid 

That  the  roseate  Aurora 

On  flowers  ever  scattered. 

[70] 


SILVANIA 
MELEAGROS 


Venus 

Venus,  rosily  voluptuous, 
Is  mistress  of  the  vessel ; 
Eros  is  the  pilot, 
Who  manages  the  tiller, 
And  with  his  tiny  fingers 
Ports  me  where  he  pleases, 
And  my  every  rebellion 
By  a  tempest  is  combated. 
Ah!   on  this  sea   of   pleasure, 
Ever  the  sea  most  agitated, 
Inconstant  and  dolorous, 
Ah,  me !  I  am  sailing,  sailing, 
And  fear  that  I  may  perish. 


f71J 


SILVANIA 


MELEAGROS 


On  Cupid 

Ah !  I  want  to  sell  him  ; 
To  sell  him  I  determine, 
Altho  he  seems  at  present 
Strangely  calm  and  quiet 
On  the  tender  bosom 
Of  his  mother,  sleeping. 
Why  should  I  longer 
Suffer  with  this  infant, 
So  insolent  and  fiery, 
Malicious  and  alated, 
Ever  false,  vindictive? 
His  tears  deceive  one  only; 
His  merriment  is  feigned. 
Of  a  verity  I  tell  you, 
None  has  seen  him  timid. 
He  is  parlous :  from  his  eye 
Naught  is  e  'er  concealed, 
And  he's  so  cruel  and  sly 
That  even  his  very  mother 

[72] 


SILVANIA 

This  infant  cannot  manage. 
Truly,  I  lose  my  patience! 
To  vend  him  I  determine 
If  some  buyer  cares 
To  remove  him  from  my  vision. 
Ho,  there !  who  will  buy  him  ? 
Ah !  now  his  face  is  puckered ! 
Ah !  now  he  cries !    Don't  fear, 
Don't  fear,  my  blessed  baby! 
I  no  longer  want  to  sell  thee ! 
Stay,  stay,  my  pet,   and  play 
With  thy  tender  Aphrodite ! 
Oh,  my  precious  little  Eros! 


[73] 


SILVANIA 

ARCHILOCHUS 

On  Despair 

There  is  no  reason  for  man 

To  despair,  not  to  essay : 
There's  naught  more  marvelous  than 

The  labor  of  Theos  turning  night  to  day. 

He  obscured  Helios  at  meridian  hour, 
Causing  terror  in  mortals  belo: 

Let  us  then  imitate  his  power, 
In  the  nature  he  doth  on  us  besto. 

No  trial  then  should  cause  despair, 
In  view  of  the  marvel  quotidian: 

If  we  disperse  the  gloom  of  care 
By  the  light  of  our  day  meridian. 


[74] 


SILVANIA 


ARCHILOCHUS 


On  Fortitude 

Why  thy  spirit  torment, 

Oh,  friend,  with  asperous  cares? 

Seek  force,  encouragement; 
Triumph  is  for  him  who  dares 
And  to  the  camp  of  battle  bears 

A  ruder  lance  than  his  adversary, 

Who  everywhere  is  temerary. 

But  when  the  triumph  is  once  thine, 
Remember  that  mercy  is  divine. 

If  thy  foes  thee  vanquish, 

Give  not  feebly  way  to  tears, 

Nor  allow  thy  soul  to  anguish 
With  vain  and  idle  fears. 
Only  noble  is  he  who  hears 

Amid  the  din  a  tender  voice, 

That   o'er  misfortune   will   ne'er   rejoice: 
In  whom  mercy  increaseth  every  day 
For  the  petrous  ills  that  pave  our  way. 

[75] 


SILVANIA 


AECHILOCHUS 


On  Himself 

I  care  not  for  the  treasure 

Of  Giges,  that  so  abounded, 
Nor  for  vain  pomp   or  pleasure, 
Nor  am  I  of  emulation  slave. 

I  envy  not  the  power 

Of  those  mortals  semi-divine, 
But  desire  that  every  hour 
For  humanity  may  be  utilized. 


[76] 


SILVANIA 


BACHILDES 


On  Peace 

Presently  may  sacred  peace 

Keturn,  men  riches  to  bring, 
And  the  pen  of  the  poet  not  cease 

In  dulcet  verse  its  praise  to  sing. 

Auric  flames  will  be  incended 
On  altars  of  the  Lares  divine, 

And  with  them  will  be  blended 
Limbs  of  the  sacrificed  bovine. 

Ardent  youth  will  sound  a  hymn 
And  flutes,  or  in  gymnasium  play, 

While  in  the  armor  of  the  warrior  grim 
The  spider  will  weave  its  web  by  day. 

The  brilliant  lance  the  rust  will  wear, 
While  the  sword  its  edge  will  lose; 

No  longer  will  the  trumpets  blare, 

To  rob  dull  eyes  of  the  sleep  they  choose. 

[77] 


SILVANIA 

One  then  will  see  in  every  part 
Joyous  greetings  that  never  cease, 

While  the  grand  noise  of  every  art 

Seems  a  sacred  hymn  in  praise  of  peace. 


78  J 


SILVANIA 


BACHILDES 


On  Care 

Only  one  way  is  indicated 

To  mortals  their  welfare  to  attain, 

And  he  who  is  not  prostrated 
By  the  force  of  continuous  pain, 

Should  strive  with  zeal  unmitigated 
His  fair  ideal  of  a  goal  to  gain. 

But  he  who  is  pursued 

By  vain  care,  both  night  and  day; 
Who  with  anguish  is  e'er  imbued, 

To  his  own  false  fears  eternal  prey, 
Only  his  path  with  thorns  has  strewed, 

That  torment  and  deter  his  future  way. 


[79] 


SILVANIA 


SIMONIDES 


On  Human  Existence 

No  stability  is  there  in  mundane  existence, 

For  we,  like  leaves  from  branches  separated, 
Descend,  and  to  rude  Boreas  no  resistance 

Offer,  e'en  tho  of  rami  elevated. 
Aye,  thus  prematurely  falls  the  human  genus, 

Disregarding  those  verities  venerated, 
In  pursuit  of  Bacchus  or  the  joys  of  Venus, 

Too  frequently  from  destiny  deviated. 

Expectancy  is  a  flame*  that  we  entertain, 

For  hope,  like  elixir,  the  spirit  animates; 
And  because  it  delights,  we  it  sustain, 

While  the  flower  of  youth  ostentates 
In  the  adult,  with  any  petty  desire, 

His  spirit  light  such  passion  sates, 
That  serves  as  fuel  for  the  fire, 

That  life  consumes  and  hope  devastates. 

[80] 


SILVANIA 

Reflect  on  the  evils  that  us  assail : 

"Tis  folly  in  one  to  no  change  suppose, 
For  he  ignores  how  brief,  uncertain,  frail 

Is  life, — that  even  youth  hath  woes. 
For  verily  brief  is  the  time  conceded 

As  the  life  of  man,  that  soon  declines : 
So,  thou,  versed  in  the  resignation  needed, 

Suffer,  as  one  who  to  sleep  himself  resigns. 


[81] 


SILVANIA 


SIMONIDES 


On  Virtue 

Virtue  lives  in  a  rocky  retreat, 
Whose  ascent  is  very  precipitous; 
A  sterile  region  round  about, 
That  no  one  cares  to  view, 
Except  he  who  free  from  doubt, 
After  many  conflicts  vain, 
After  much  long  interior  pain, 
Rises  to  that  altitude  supreme, 
Excelsior,  where  the  Fates  redeem. 


[82] 


SATIRES 


Lullaby 

Oh,  slumber,  my  baby ! 

Let  not  my  unrest, 
Disturb  thee,  my  baby, 

On  the  maternal  brest. 

Oh,  when  thou  hast  also 
Attained  virile  estate, 

Will  atavism  thee  also 
Make  false  to  thy  mate? 

Thy  father  is  dancing 

In  gray  haunts  of  vice, 
"Where  sirens  entrancing 
Seek  only  their  price, 

For  charms  that  they  lavish 
On  fools  lost  to  shame, 

Who  by  arts  seek  to  ravish, 
And  their  tribute  claim. 

Oh,  slumber,  my  baby ! 

May  thy  future  mate 
Be  spared  my  sorro 

And  such  infelice  fate. 

[85] 


SILVANIA 


In  a  Cabaret 

Strange  music  sounds; 

In   fantastic   rounds, 
To  syncopation  of  Indo-negro  slums, 

The  couples  dance, 

As  in  a  trance, 
And  a  lubric  murmur  of  evil  hums. 

A  jazzing  grind, 

That  fills  the  mind 
Of  the  normal  soul  with  grim  distaste, 

Shame  of  our  time ! 

High  school  of  crime, 
Where  perversion  with  desire  is  enlaced. 


[86] 


SILVANIA 


The  Harlot 

A  harlot  was  she : 
A  girl  of  the  street; 

Despized  was  she 

By  all  she  might  meet. 

And  yet  on  a  time 

She  was  pure  and  sweet, 
Till  soiled  by  the  slime 

Of  the  man  in  the  street. 

Today  she's  rejected 
As  an  object  of  shame, 

But  the  base  cur  infected, 
Who  for  it  was  to  blame, 

May  mingle  with  the  pure, 
In  salon  and  in  dance, 

For  whose  ill  there 's  no  cure, 
Seeking  only  a  chance 

The  thing  to  transmit 

That 's  too  horrid  to  name, 

[87] 


SILVANIA 

That  leads  to  the  pit 
Of  misery  and  shame. 

Oh,  is  this  the  civilization 

Of  our  modern  times, 
That   permits   the   perpetuation 

Of   concealed    crimes? 


[88] 


SILVANIA 


The  Vampire 

She  is  a  product  of  her  race : 
The  male  of  the  species  is  her  prey ; 

Vain  and  false  and  fair  of  face, 

The  cause  of  dishonor  and  disgrace ; 

She  only  seeks  to  have  her  way. 

With  trifling  trinkets  and  flimsy  rags 
She  dazzles  the  asses  in  her  train, 

The  envy  of  other  painted  hags, 

Harping  and  hating,  but  who  never  lags 

In  the  choice  of  victim  whom  she  drags 
To  ruin  with  a  gilded  chain. 


[68] 


SILVANIA 


Urbanity 

Urban  to  urbanity  gave  the  name : 

But  urban  now  only  means  what's  base, 

To  express  the  gross,  the  vile,  and  shame, 
Where  prostitution  bares  its  hideous  face. 

Where  courtesy  is  a  thing  antique, 
Of  the  days  of  dames  and  cavalier, 

Of  which  today  we  find  a  rare  replique, 
For  courtesan  means  now  the  harlot  blear. 


[90] 


SILVANIA 


Creation 

When  Satan  descended  to  our  sphere, 

Vanquished  and  fuming  with  defeat  and  ire, 

He  sought  to  make  his  arts  appear 
As  innocent,  and  chose  as  buyer 

The  female  of  the  genus,  who 
Gave  the  old  fello  a  lot  to  do. 

And  in  her  rude  mind  of  early  days 
He  sowed  the  seed  of  vice  and  guile, 

Making  leaves  and  gossip  quite  the  craze, 
That  presently  caused  in  old  Adam  bile. 

For  there  wasn't  a  biddy  in  the  land 
To  escape  from  Eva's  tingling  tongue, 

And  Adam  just  had  to  take  and  stand, 

Till  he  wished  his  rib  on  a  tree  were  hung. 

But  Eva  never  cared  a  rap, 

And  made  him  for  trinkets  climb  high  trees, 
Till  Adam,  poor  old  misguided  chap, 

Found  Eva  a  nuisance  and  hard  to  please. 

[91] 


SILVANIA 

And  in  these  days  of  Parisian  togs, 
The  fate  of  Adam  is  sad  and  sore, 

For  to  dress  fair  Eva  his  mind  befogs, 

And  he  sighs  for  the  day  when  it  is  o'er. 


92] 


SATIRES   TRANSLATED  FROM  THE 

CLASSICS 
GREEK   AND   LATIN 


ANTIPATER 

Flourished   in   the   reign   of  the   last  king    of 
Macedonia,  Philip,  398  to  319  B.  C. 

In  praise  of  Praxiteles  for  his  statue  of 

Venus 

Adonis,  Hercules  and  Mars 

And  the  pastor  Paris  have  come 

To  see  me  nude  as  the  stars, 

Before  me,  with  admiration  dumb. 

And  now  that  Praxiteles  my  face 

Hath  reproduced  with  so  much  grace, 
They  sculptors  also  would  become, 

My  image  to  model  in  his  place. 

Venus 

Of  Venus  nude,  the  form  and  charms 
He  cut  in  marble,  which  inspired  an  ode, 

And  when  Venus  saw  her  image  she  said : 
I  only  wish  it  were  the  mode ! 

[95] 


SILVANIA 


ANTIPATER 


Inspiration 

Sage  and  divine  Hippocrene, 
Who  inspirest  sublime  verses, 
On  the  leafy  margins 
Of  thy  current  limpid,  beauteous, 
Eternal  renown  Pindaros, 
And  Anaereon  and  Homerus 
Have  acquired :     let  us  bibe ! 
Ea!  cupbearer,  serve  us 
Wine  excellent  and  aged! 
Ridicule  for  those  who  censure 
That  we  esteem  more  the  liquor 
Which  matureth  in  sunny  Falerno, 
Than  all  the  waters  that  Helicon 
Produceth  on  his  high  summit. 


[96] 


SILVANIA 


The  Nine  Muses  Terrestre 

The  Macedonian  monte  celebrated 
And  the  sublime  Helicon  inspired 
The  hymns  and  chants  of  poetesses, 
Of  voices  divine  in  concert: 
Myro,  Praxilla,  the  eloquent  Anytes, 
Of  clear  numen,  feminine  Homerus; 
Sapho,  of  Lesbos  ornament  and   gala, 
And  those  others  of  harmonious  plectrum : 
Erymis,  Telesilla,  and  thou  Corinna, 
Thou  the  cantora  of  the  ferrous  escutcheon 
Of  Minerva,  and  the  delicate  Nossis, 
Of  dulcet  tone,  effeminate  echoes, 
And  Myrtis,  whose  chants  so  mellifluous, 
In  toto  auric  pages  of  verse  composed. 
Nine  Muses  inhabited  the  Pindus, 
Eternally  to  pertain  to  regions  celestial; 
And  Terra  produced  also  nine  sisters, 
For  humanity  the  glory  and  adornment. 


[97] 


SILVANIA 


PALADAS,  OF  ALEXANDRIA 

Flourished  about  369  Christian  Era. 

Human  Insignificance 

Thou,  who  only  a  gross  parcel  art, 

Among  the  atoms  that  the  orb  containeth, 
Pretendeth  to   measure  the  universe  in  part, 

Directing  thy  glances  where  Zeus  reigneth : 
Measure  thyself,  and  know  that  they 

Inscrutable  are;  despite  thy  ambition, 
Thou  wilt  ne'er  arrive  to  know  the  way, 

If  of  thyself  thou  hast  but  intuition. 

Human   Inquietude 

Nude  I  entered  this  vale  of  sorro, 
And  nude  I'll  be  when  it  I  leave: 

Why  then  worry  for  the  morro, 
For  gain  is  vain;  why  then  grieve? 


[98] 


SILVANIA 


Money 

Eternal  source  of  doubt  and  fears 

And  heavy  sorros,  oh,  metal  vile! 
Adored  like  Zeus,  with  prayers  and  tears, 

Which  humanity  seeks  with  zeal  and  guile, 
And  to  possess  it,  with  frenzy  insane, 

While  the  fear  of  losing  it's  a  goad, 
A  horrible  malady.     Thus,  'tis  a  bane 

To  have  it  or  not,  in  equal  mode. 


The  Enemy 

If  a  mortal  enemy  comes  to  curse  me, 
I  know,  and  on  guard  I  him  receive ; 

But  he  who  ne'er  seeks  to  reimburse  me, 
Who  is  false  and  base  and  makes  me  grieve ; 

Who  to  despoil  me  comes  unblushing, 
With  deceit  and  affection  feigned, 

My  faith  and  care  forever  crushing, 

Is  the  enemy  whose  bio  I  ne'er  restrained. 

[99] 


SILVANIA 


PALADAS 


Femina 

To  the  element  inflamed, 

Jupiter  the  female  added, 
And  these  two  fierce  fires  untamed 

Have  in  all  time  raged  and  gadded, 
For  which  Jove  has  e'er  been  blamed 

For  having  caused  us  such  torment, 
The  consuming  fire  which  one  may  stifle, 

But  ne'er  the  one  which  Jove  us  sent, 
Who  holds  our  peace,  aye,  life",  a  trifle ; 

Who  in  life's  dual  plan  was  meant 
To  purge  our  dross  and  pockets  rifle. 


Woman  is  a  genius :  she  is  the  cause 
Of  our  torments  and  our  anguish; 

Only  at  moments  does  she  pause 
In  her  plan  our  will  to  vanquish : 

One  is  when  a  bride  upon  our  brest, 

And  the  other  is  when  she's  laid  to  rest. 

[100] 


SILVANIA 


You  say  that  you  live  not 

Neath  the  yoke  of  your  dear  spouse, 
And  tho  you  suffer,  yet  give  not 

A  sign  of  what  happens  in  your  house ; 
In  your  soul  the  pain  concealing, 

With  many  subterfuges  vain: 
'  My  wife  is  virtuous  and  this  feeling, 

In  view  of  it,  I  must  contain. 
I  must  satisfy  her  caprices, 

For  that  is  the  only  domestic  means, 
Altho  she  knocks  my  soul  to  pieces, 

'Tis  the  only  way  to  avoid  bad  scenes!" 

You  are  not  her  slave :  I  admit  it ; 

You  may  be  right  and  a  noble  spouse, 
But  I  see  a  point  each  time  I  hit  it, 

And  say  you're  a  servant  in  your  house. 


[101] 


SILVANIA 


PALADAS 


Cosmetics 

In  exchange  for  sounding  money, 
I  saw  thee,  Hortensia,  tresses  buy, 

Paints  and  powder,  lotions  of  honey, 

That  form  your  charm,  when  not  too  nigh. 

And  all  those  arts  are  so  illusive, 
No  man  of  sense  could  aut  more  ask, 

But  while  I  refrain  from  words  abusive, 
For  me,  Hortensia,  you  wear  a  mask. 

"I  was  born  crying  and  will  die  amid  tears; 
My  life  doth  pass  amid  worries  and  sorro!" 

Thou  hast  no  reason  to  thus  nourish  fears, 
Oh,  mortal,  nor  worry  thus  for  the  morro. 

The  evils  unceasing  that  our  paces  folio, 
Are  the  fire  of  Nature,  our  dross  to  burn, 

To  try  the  spirit,  in  this  life  so  hollo, 

That  to  Theos  and  Terra  one  day  must  return. 

[102] 


SILVANIA 


Nicarcos 

In  Century  I  of  Christian  Era 

Why  doth  the  husband  cease 

His  wife  to  praise? 
Why  doth  his  love  decrease? 

Why  lieth  he  when  he  says 
In  gymnasium  he  passed  the  time? 

Who'll  explain  his  conduct  strange? 
The  wife  is  fair,  but  her  crime 

Is  in  causing  his  love  to  turn, 
And  on  the  altar  of  a  strumpet  burn. 


[103] 


SILVANIA 


ONESTES 
Epoch  uncertain 

Poesy 

To  the  summit  of  Helicon,  arduous 
It  is  to  arrive ;  but  there  one  sates 

His  fatiguing  thirst,  where  Hippocrene 
A  source  limpid  and  pure  libates. 

And  in  equal  manner,  poesy  also 
Doth  her  asperous  apex  to  us  sho ; 
But  if  thou  attainest  the   height   divine, 
Companion  thou 'It  be  of  the  Muses  nine. 


[104] 


SILVANIA 


DIONYSIOS 
During   reign   of   Emperor   Adrianus 

Desires 

Ah,  if  I  were  the  sylvan  flor 

That  Phyllis  from  its  stalk  hath  torn, 
Or  the  rose  of  the  sanguine  core, 

On  her  bosom  so  gaily  borne; 

Ah,  no !  if  my  wish  were  heard  tonight, 
I'd  be  the  zephyr  douce  that  bios, 

The  essence  and  spirit  of  the  flor, 
So  that  Phyllis  in  hours  of  repose 

In  my  aroma  might  find  her  delight. 


[105] 


SILVANIA 


CRATES 
328  prior  Christian  Era 

The  Panacea 

Eros  takes  the  appetite  away, 

And  is  only  by  time  dispelled ; 
But  if  the  petty  monster  stay, 

Refusing  to  be  thus  expelled, 
You  may  only  on  one  thing  depend, 

His  ardent  fires  to  cool : 
Take  a  rope  and  yourself  suspend ; 

'Tis  the  only  remedy  for  a  fool ; 


[106] 


SILVANIA 


ANONYMOUS 
Hymen 

Those  who  incline  to  receive  the  yoke 

Of  Hymen,  invariably  lament 
Their  fate,  while  others  joke; 

But  in  the  same  predicament 
Is  the  mocker  when  he  takes  the  road 

And  in  turn  doth  in  equal  mode 
Incautiously  accept  the  same  heavy  load. 

Second    Nuptials 

The  fool  who  freed  from  chains, 
Seeks  them  anew  in  matrimony, 
I  compare,  in  his  lack  of  brains, 
To  the  imbecile  saved  from  the  sea, 
Who  ruined  and  maimed,  ventures  again. 
Embarking  anew  on  the  perfidious  main. 


[107] 


SILVANIA 


Brevity  of  Life 

For  meditation  man  was  created, 
But  in  his  cogitations  fated 
To  incur  in  error  and  delay, 
And  during  the  labors  of  the  day 
He  anxiously  awaits  its  close, 
Desiring  night  with  soft  repose; 
Thus  passes  time  in  slumbrous  strife, 
Mute  to  the  real  labor  and  dole  of  life. 


[108] 


SILVANIA 


LUCILIUS  GAIUS 
Roman  Satirist,  180-103  B.  C. 

The  Toilette 

A  pile  of  tresses  curly, 

Pomades,  cosmetics,  scented  nice, 
Combs  and  a  host  of  trifles  pearly, 

That  surely  cost  a  pretty  price, 
Which,  in  fine,  are  used  for  coating 

The  face  of  Femina,  until  you  ask 
In  disgust,  the  paraphernalia  noting, 

Would  she  not  be  better  in  a  comic  mask? 


[109] 


SILVANIA 


Amity 

If  in  verity  thou  me  esteemest, 

If  thy  amity  is  true  and  would  not  cause 
Trials  and  troubles,  and  thou  deemest 

That  amity  also  possesseth  laws: 

Prove  it,  for  I  prefer  that  one  hate 

Than  falsely  profess  love  that  is  a  harm, 

For  they  say  a  vessel  hath  a  better  fate 
When  rocks  project  like  an  angry  arm, 

Than  when  o'er  waters  of  tranquil  face 
The  shoals  concealed  prove  its  disgrace. 


[110] 


SILVANIA 


LUCIANUS 
Flourished  A.  D.  150 

False  Amity 

The  most  odious  monster  that  produceth, 
Without  any  doubt,  the  human  race, 

Is  a  friend  perfidious,  who  faith  traduceth, 
Neath  the  cover  of  a  fawning  face. 

I  may  avoid  those  vicious  lances 
That  an  enemy  may  at  me  cast; 

But  a  false  friend  whose  suave  advances 
And  honeyed  words  are  too  sweet  to  last, 

With  flattery  and  with  smile  persuasive, 
Finds  me  exposed  to  his  poisonous  arm; 

His  traitorous  bios  are  not  evasive, 
And  I  cannot  prevent  so  vile  a  harm. 


[Ill] 


SILVANIA 


LUCIANUS 

Time 

He  who,  prosperous,  lives  in  opulence, 
Sees  time  pass  rapidly  and  vernal; 

But  to  one  who  lives  in  sad  suspense, 
A  day  or  a  night  doth  seem  eternal. 

Talent 

In  verity  at  times  to  be  discreet  is  hard ; 

More  precious  is  talent  than  gems  or  gold ; 
Of  more  use  at  times  than  the  sure  guard 

Of  treasure,  is  it  for  one  a  secret  to  hold. 

Silence 

A  seal  put  on  thy  lips: 
The  phrase  that  slips 
Doth  to  loss  thee  expose, 
And  thy  secrets  disclose. 
Words  are  treasures  and  we 
On  our  guard  e'er  must  be. 

[112] 


SILVANIA 


NESTOR 

Lived  in  Century  III  of  Christian  Era 

Invocation  to  the  Muses 

Muses,  let  your  gracious  voices, 
So  full  of  entrancing  melody, 
To  my  ears  arrive :  let  echoes 
Celestial  resound  of  those  divine 
Heliconian  notes,  which  escape 
From  your  lips  and  enchanting  lyres, 
For  those  who  are  privileged, 
In  rays  of  light  and  poesy, 
That  you  in  magic  waves  impel, 
Inspired  divinely  by  your  chants, 
Concert  of  harmony  that^mortals 
Are  rarely  allowed  the  grace  divine. 


[113] 


SILVANIA 


PAULUS 
Flourished  in  Century  VI.  A.  D. 

Virtus 

Be  ye  ne'er  seduced 

By  the  flattering  breeze 
Of  Fortune,  nor  reduced 

Your  spirit  by  disease ; 
For  this  our  life  entire 

By  gales  is  agitated, 
Variable  as  is  the  fire 

Idly  borne,  to  extinction  fated. 
But  Virtue,  and  she  alone, 

Is  immutable,  eternal, 
For  with  her,  as  is  known, 

One  fears  no  ills  infernal. 


[114] 


SILVANIA 


Vita 

Each  morn 

We  are  born 
Anew,  day  by  day, 
Only  knowing  by  the  cost 
Of  the  day,  now  gone  and  lost, 
For  strange,  we  may  say, 
Are  we  to  yesterday. 
We  recommence  to  live. 
Faults  past  we  soon  forgive. 
Symbol  is  this  life  of  more 
To  folio  on  a  mystic  shore. 


[115] 


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